Los niños del cielo

This translates to MUST-SEE! It's a credulous incredible storytelling of a young brother and sister in Tehran, and the adventurous saga around one very important pair of sneakers.

The two young actors are amazing -- they play their guileless naïve sensitivity with such earnestness! Central character, Ali, the 9 year old brother, is Mir Farrokh Hashemian, who really carried the film with his legwork, and the younger sister Zahra is Bahareh Seddiqui, who contributed her restrained share of screen presence. The pair is so natural: those furrowed faces, anxious knitted brows -- the range of sad faces the two came up with! The bond between the brother and sister is so warm and joyful - in spite of misfortunes.

The storyline is seemingly simple. Such story-weaving knack writer-director Majid Majidi has -- he can make chasing along a streaming gutter into an intense dramatic episode! The story has the texture likened to a Thomas Hardy novel (poverty setting, episode after episode, turn of events), yet such a relishingly simple delivery. He doesn't have to tell it all on the screen -- little nuances and observations suffice.

It's heartening to see young children who are polite and respectful to their elders, responsible and caring in dealing with their everyday problems, and not give up -- such quiet fortitude in spite of disappointments, such tolerance of their circumstance yet still able to find joy in little things. We catch a smile here and there, e.g., when they enjoy the impromptu soap bubbles, or when he encouraged his sister by giving her small tokens.

This is an absolute gem of a family (value) film. Children's emotions untapped, yet adults are not left out -- touches of grown-up connections: the parents, the elderly couple next door, the shop-owners, all made this world very real.

The camerawork, and the well-designed use of sound mixed with accompanying music (different tonal quality instruments were applied) complemented this cinematic experience. A poetic ending -- there's a serenity about it all.

I hope "Children of Heaven" will win this year's 71st Academy Award Best Foreign Film Oscar -- it will receive its due exposure and more people will experience this gem.

Along the lines of poverty and shoes, I thought of the Italian 1978's "The Tree of the Wooden Clogs" by writer-director Ermanno Olmi. And, on a story with substance and good acting by an Iranian young boy, there's 1989's "Bashu, The Little Stranger", by writer-director Bahram Beizai. Both are movies to be appreciated.

Majid Majidi is a genius. He is a director and actor of great talent. This film presents a sweet story of a brother and sister, their bond and their unique solution to solving the problem of a pair of lost shoes. The child actors are adorable and utterly convincing and the production of the film is of such quality that you get lost in watching it. The story itself is humorous, at times, and inspiring. Though the premise may be simple, each scene is infused with such passion, beauty and emotion that the experience of viewing this film is anything but simple. To all who have yet to view the film, take note of the very last scene.

I find it most difficult and awkward to make comment on films that I personally do not like. That is why I could talk for days about this wonderful Oscar Submission!

Children Of Heaven is one of those rare films that not only I want to talk about, but everyone else who has seen it seems to be raving about. This tender and triumphant little jewel of a film had every head turning at the recent 1999 Nortel Palm Springs International Film Festival, January 7th-18th. After it's first showing at the festival, people were indeed talking!

"Did you see that film from Iran?" "No, any good?" "Just wait, go see it, we'll talk later!"

The Children Of Heaven follows the relationship between an impoverished brother and sister, Ali and Zahra, who are thrust into a difficult circumstance all revolving around a pair of sneakers. How they choose to solve their problem themselves, without telling their parents, is what makes the story so heart-warming and unique. What follows is a tender, moving tale of compassion, determination, and deep family love.

Bravo writer/director Majid Majidi!

Majid Majidi's Children of Heaven is such an extraordinary work of movie-making that it is in a realm of movies that are able to connect with anyone who remembers (or is amidst) their childhood, regardless of what country they come from. (Note: Films that have a universal appeal aren't necessarily better than films that only appeal to people from one or two countries, but making a film with a universal appeal is no easy task.) A boy named Ali (Amir Farrokh Hashemian) loses his sister Zahra's ((Bahare Seddiqi) running shoes; Zahra threatens to tell their father (Mohammad Amir Naji). Petrified at his father's temper, Ali promises his sister that he will get his sister some new shoes as soon as possible. In the meantime, the two work out a tight shoe-switching schedule. The plot is inventive and provides some decent chuckles-good writing and comic timing. Hashemian is likable and relatable though he milks the babyish whimpering to an annoying extent. Naji is able to give us a stronger feeling that we are watching a real person on screen than any of the other actors in the film. It is not until the last ten minutes of the film, however, that we are swept up in a crazy whirlwind of emotion, jolting from despair to joy to suspense (though not in that order) and the last ten minutes can make a movie great. Majidi gives us homage to The Four Hundred Blows. The ending to Majidi's movie is somewhat similar to that of Francois Truffaut's; both movies contain the feeling of extreme desperation, but Ali has a goal in his life while Antoine Doinel (Jean-Pierre Léaud) is boldly going nowhere. Truffaut's film concludes with brilliant ambiguity, leaving us wondering whether Doinel's last five minutes on screen were triumphant or pathetic; Majidi does something quite similar (less ambitiously) in a way I would not dream of revealing.

This film is not to be considered as more a novelty of an exotic country, as many productions of the third world are. Actually, it's superior to the smashing majority of the American films. It is touching in its simplicity, true in the feelings that it focuses, blinding in the sublime form as it approaches, starting from the simple story of a poor Iranian child, such universal subjects. Just extraordinary.